You and Me
by xxjmm96xx
Summary: Booth and Brennan were nearly killed in an explosion. After an exta set of bones were found in the rubble, things take an interesting turn. Was someone trying to kill them or was it a cover up? To add to the mix, Brennan's father escapes from prison. B
1. Disaster Date

_**Here goes my second shot at a Bones story. I love Bones, so much. It is like the best TV show ever. Can't wait for Season 6! Anyway let me know how this one is, if it's any better than the last one. **_

_**Couple of things: Zack is still with the team. He was not involved with Gormogon. Angela and Hodgins are still together. Brennan's father is on Death Row for killing a federal agent. This takes place after Season 3; I haven't watched Season 4 yet. This story just came to me. **_

_**Okay, enjoy :D **_

"Do we really have to do this?"

"Well, yeah. Of course. Dr. Sweets asked us too. And you don't want him to split us up do you?" Dr Temperance Brennan said, approaching a door. "Besides it's at a bar, one of your favorite places."

"That is not true," Agent Seeley Booth protested, holding the door open for them to slip inside.

Dr. Lance Sweets, their therapist, had requested them to go on a "date," to see how well they interacted when it wasn't work related. Sweets, as Booth called him, was convinced that they harbored feelings for each other. But for now, he was happy with their playful banter.

They picked their way through the crowd and plopped onto two seats at the bar.

"A beer please," Brennan asked the bartender.

"Make that two," Booth added. He turned to Brennan. "I never pegged you as a beer girl, Bones." He took a big gulp of beer when the bartender placed it in front of him.

Brennan took an equally large sip. "Appearance isn't everything you know."

"Yeah, sure Bones," Booth snickered and Brennan glared.

There was a pause. It grew longer, till it became uncomfortable.

"Well, this is awkward," Booth stating the obvious.

"You're right, we shouldn't do this," Brennan said, making a move to get up.

"Wait, Bones," Booth said, placing a hand on her arm to stop her.

She stopped in surprise but she lowered herself back onto the seat.

Booth thought quickly for something to keep her there. Not that he would admit it, he liked spending time with Bones.

A slow song played over the speakers. "Oh, I have an idea," he said. He drank the rest of his beer and jumped off his stool. "Let's go Bones."

"Wha-, hey I wasn't finished with that!" she exclaimed as Booth took the bottle out of her hand. He slipped his hand into hers and pulled her to her feet. "What is this about Booth?" she asked, confused, but she didn't take her hand away from his.

He led her to the dance floor, and she gave him a skeptic look. Before she could say anything, he took her other hand, intertwining their fingers.

He met her gaze. "Dance with me," he whispered.

"Booth, I'm not really the most coordinated person…" She stopped when he slipped his arms around her waist. "Okay," she agreed quietly, hoping that he didn't notice how breathless she was.

She placed her arms around his neck. She felt unsure of her movements, but she felt comfortable with Booth, like this was just right. She laid her head on his chest and sighed.

It was a beautiful song. They swayed to the music, and Booth even had her spin a slow turn.

She smiled up at him, and he gazed down at her, trying to gauge what she was feeling. With Bones, it was always hard to tell.

All he was aware of was her in his arms, how she fit perfectly. She was so beautiful with her eyes shining and she was glowing in the dim light.

The whole time they were dancing, they inched closer to each other.

The song ended, but they stayed the way they were.

Booth leaned his head down, while Brennan tilted her head up.

She smelled the beer on his breath and his lips looked enticing. Once they did this, there was no going back.

Just as he was about to press his mouth to hers, behind the bar was a crackling sound.

Booth whipped his head up, and his mouth dropped open. Then his instincts kicked in.

"Temperance, get down!" Booth yelled, discarding her nickname in the serious situation.

He dove over her just as an explosion rocked the building. __


	2. Pain and Suffering

Booth dove over Brennan as glass flew everywhere and heat radiated from all sides.

Booth looked up groggily, blood slipping down from his forehead into his eyes. He tried to assess the damage to the building and if everyone was okay, but he could barely see anything with all the smoke.

He refocused on Bones. She was his priority right now. He needed to get her out of the building and make sure she was safe.

"Hey, Bones! Temperance can you hear me?" Booth called to her over the noise, cupping her cut face in his hands.

She didn't answer, she was out cold.

He swore under his breath and tried to stand up, ignoring his whole body protesting.

He bent down to carry Brennan out of the building and it was then that he realized the intense burn on his leg.

He suppressed a gag as he saw his bubbling skin, and he scooped Brennan into his arms.

She started to come to as he started limping painfully.

"Booth?" she said, her voice sticky. "What happened?"

Her blue eyes were confused as she looked up at him. She must have seen how messed up his face was, so she looked down at herself.

She was cut up everywhere; pieces of glass were embedded in her jacket. She had some serious burns on one half of her body. She coughed shakily as she inhaled some more smoke.

She looked up at him again, this time panic in her face as she recalled what happened. Panic was not a look that occurred on her face often.

She searched Booth's face and she must have seen the pain etched there because her look became one of concern.

"No, don't worry about me Bones. I'll get you out of here. Don't worry," he wheezed. He could hear sirens coming closer. He prayed ambulances were already outside.

"Almost there," he panted, seeing the stars though a hole in the roof.

He skirted around some rubble and they finally inhaled fresh air, which immediately sent them into a coughing fit.

Booth's legs wobbled and he collapsed to his knees, which sent shooting pain up his legs.

Brennan shifted her weight so they were both lying side by side on the ground.

An instant later, paramedics were by their side. They strapped oxygen masks over their nose and mouths.

Brennan met Booth's eyes and she saw relief there. Relief that they had both survived.

"Booth-," she started, but was cut off when a paramedic instructed her to keep the mask on.

They were strapped onto stretchers and loaded into the back of the same ambulance where they were hooked up to about a million tubes and machines.

The ambulance jerked into motion and the siren seemed deafening.

Paramedics were poking and prodding and Brennan hated it. The oxygen mask was replaced by tubes so she could talk. Immediately, she started snapping at the medics.

"Bones." Booth's voice was weak, but firm. "They are trying to do their job. Let them make sure you're okay."

She looked over at Booth. She tried focusing on his eyes and not on his wounds. The bottom of his jeans looked melted with his skin and the medics were trying to cut them off.

She took his hand, ignoring the white hot pain that shot up her arm and the peeved looks of the medics.

"You saved my life," she said. "I'll never forget that Booth."

"We're going to get through this," he told her, squeezing her hand. It was as if he hadn't even heard her.

She saw his face go white; his eyes close, and felt his hand slacken.

The monitors beeped erratically.

"What happened? What's going on?" she demanded frantically.

No one answered her. They just kept trying to stabilize him.

"Booth, wake up! Booth please!" But he didn't move a muscle. His hand slipped from hers.

"Booth!" she screamed his name over and over again and she tried to get off of her stretcher.

Immediately hands pushed her back down, but she wouldn't- couldn't- control herself. All she knew was that her partner, her _friend_ was possibly dying because he had tried to save her.

If he died, she would never forgive herself.

She felt a new liquid sliding through the IV tube, into her veins.

She didn't stop trying to get to Booth until she became too tired. Her limbs felt like lead.

The last thing she remembered was Booth's immobile body and the incessant beeping.

Then she floating on a sea of darkness, where there was no pain, physical or emotional.


	3. Why Not?

Brennan blinked her eyes open. She was in a pristine white room and the light was harsh. When she tried to sit up, tubes pulled from all directions.

She was in the hospital.

It was then that the memories came flooding back. The explosion at the bar.

"Brennan?"

She tried to turn her head to the sound, but the sedative hadn't worn off all the way.

"Hi, sweetie," Angela Montenegro came up to the side of the bed and took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Ange, what are you doing here?" Brennan rasped in a voice so unlike her own.

"Here drink this," Angela said, producing a cup of water. Brennan took it and drank greedily.

"I'm here because my best friend could have died last night," Angela said, referring to her previous question.

"Thanks Angela, it means a lot," Brennan said, grateful that she wasn't here alone. Then her mind switched gears. "How's Booth? Did he…?" she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"Oh, God no sweetie. He had worse injuries than you and more smoke inhalation. He's fine, but pretty banged up."

Brennan nodded, relief flooding her body. "Is anyone with him?"

"Well, you'll be pleased to hear that Hodgins and Zack are already at the lab, trying to figure out what caused the explosion. So that leaves…"

They looked at each other. "Cam," they stated simultaneously.

They laughed.

Brennan lapsed into silence, thinking about Booth and the explosion. She wanted to make sure Booth was okay with her own eyes. And she needed to go back to the lab and examine all the evidence.

Angela pulled her seat next to the hospital bed and sat down.

"When can I get out of here?" Brennan demanded

"Brennan, you just got blown up. You need to take it easy," Angela said firmly. She knew that Brennan would go to the lab as soon as she could, but it wasn't what she needed. But when Temperance set her mind to something, you could rarely change it.

"Angela, can you go get me a doctor?" Brennan asked, ignoring her. Angela made no effort to move. "Please?" she begged.

Angela huffed but got up and walked to the doorway. Thinking back, she gave her one sad look and went to summon a doctor.

Brennan sunk back onto her pillows and sighed.

Nobody got it. When something happened to her, she needed details. She needed details. She needed to know exactly what happened. She couldn't sit back and relax. Angela tried to understand, but she was just too kind hearted.

Only Booth got it. He would want answers as much as she did.

It didn't take long for Brennan to convince the doctor to let her go. When she wanted to be, she could be pretty persuasive.

Angela was in the car, waiting to take her to the lab.

She was going to go straight to the lab, but she couldn't make herself leave the hospital without seeing Booth first.

She roamed the halls, finally finding the right room. It wasn't far from hers.

The door was ajar, and she silently pushed it all the way open.

Cam was sitting on a chair, flipping through a magazine, but she didn't seem to be really concentrating on it. She looked up when Brennan entered.

"Hi Dr. Brennan, how are you feeling?" Cam smiled warmly. "They already let you out?"

"I felt fine, so I felt no need to stay longer than necessary," Brennan said logically.

"Of course," Cam said, understanding how Brennan was. She stood up and stretched, joints popping. "Man, my ass is asleep. I'm going to go get some coffee," Cam added, knowing that Brennan probably wanted some time alone with Booth.

After Cam strode out of the room, Brennan willed herself to look at Booth.

He was lying, still and pale on the hospital bed. His eyes were closed gently and he looked peaceful, minus all the cuts and bruises and the oxygen hose sprouting out of his nose.

She wished he was awake; she wasn't good at talking to people who weren't really there. That was why she rarely visited her mother's grave. It felt too strange.

She paced around the room, not sure what to do.

She pulled up a seat by the bed, looking at him. When she looked at him, a bunch of images flew through her mind: the dancing, him diving over her when the place exploded, and the moment where they almost kissed.

Her face flooded with heat just thinking about it and she quickly looked away from him even though she knew he couldn't see her.

She was beginning to think this was a bad idea.

She stood up, nearly whacking her knee on the edge of the bed and flew to the door.

Just as she was about to close it behind her, she heard a rustling and then a hoarse, "Bones? Is that you?"

She stood there, contemplating what to do. Cam would be back soon and she could pretend like she wasn't even there. But, looking back at Booth, she knew she couldn't do that.

"Yeah, Booth it's me," she said softly, coming back into the room and taking her seat again.

His warm brown eyes were gazing at her, becoming more focused as the medicine wore off. He tried to smile but he came out more of a grimace.

He shifted around, but it caused him more pain and his breathing became more struggled.

"Booth, stop. Don't move!" she cried out, not wanting him to hurt himself even more because of her.

He stopped moving immediately and she stood up to help him back in to a more comfortable position.

"Ugh, what happened?" Booth groaned, finding the breath to speak. He gazed up at the white ceiling.

"You don't remember?" Brennan asked, sitting back in the chair and crossing her legs primly.

He strained his brain and a few images came back. "The explosion," he sighed. "Are people always trying to kill us?"

The sarcasm was lost on Brennan. "There isn't really any proof that we were the targets," she pointed out.

Booth ignored her comment and remained silent as the rest of the nights events came back.

"So, you're okay?" he asked finally. "The doctors checked you out and you're good?"

"Yes Booth. I'm not a child, I can get checked out by the doctor on my own," she quipped. For some reason, she really enjoyed their banter. It was comforting in a way.

Booth smirked, thinking the same thing. He coughed violently, and Brennan leaned forward, yelling his name to make sure he was okay.

"Bones, I'm fine. I'm fine," he said uncertainly. He glanced at her hand resting on his arm and she reddened and pulled away. He sighed.

She stood back, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. "Well, I was just going to go to the lab, see what they've got on the explosion," she said, inching towards the door.

"Too bad I won't be able to offer up my awesome detective skills," he teased.

She doubled back to the side of his bed. She leaned over him and gave him a hug, being very careful not to cause him any more pain. "You saved my life Booth. Thank you so much," she whispered in his ear, a tear running down her face and then touching his.

At first, he stood rigid, caught by surprise. Then he relaxed, pretended not to notice the tear. Her voice sent shivers down his spine and he smiled to himself. "It's no big deal Bones. I would never let anything happen to you," he said honestly, wrapping his arms around her too.

He hated when she pulled away.

"So, I guess I should get going," she said, somewhat hesitant.

Booth nodded, not bothering to try and talk her out of it. He knew how she was; she wanted answers. But he needed to get one thing off his chest.

"Wait," he called quietly. He caught her arm before she could go too far.

She gave him an incredulous look and he tore his arm away.

"Sit," he said. When she didn't move, he raised his eyebrows. "Please? It would be bad for my health if you didn't."

She rolled her eyes, at his weak attempted humor, but sat down all the same. His eyes melted her.

For a few minutes, all he did was stare at her. It was hard to believe she was really okay. He noticed the stitches above her left eyebrow, and some cuts on her cheek. Even though he had saved her, he felt guilty.

"What?" she asked, smirking. "What?"

"Nothing, just thinking about what happened that's all," he replied.

"Well, you shouldn't dwell on the explosion. It can't be healthy-,"

"I'm not talking about the explosion, Bones. Before that," he said, interrupting her gently.

He watched as her eyebrows knit in confusion, but then she understood. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she looked away from him. "What about it?" she asked, feigning nonchalance, but he could see through her charade.

"C'mon Bones, what happened before that explosion wasn't nothing. You can't pretend that it didn't happen," he claimed. He grabbed her hand, tangling his fingers with hers just like they did when they were dancing.

He saw her face soften and he could tell they were both thinking of the same memory.

She leaned forward and their foreheads were touching. Booth's monitors went crazy as his breathing quickened. She slipped her hand around his neck, leaving her other hand glued to his. Her breath was hot on his face and he could feel her shaking as she cried.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, by her ear. He heard her gasp and then there was only empty space as she flew back.

"No, no we can't do this," she said, pacing, flustered.

Booth had never seen her this stressed and he hated to be the one to cause it. But he needed her. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

"Why not? Why not Temperance?" he pleaded, wishing she would come closer again.

Tears were flowing down her face freely now, some tinting red at the open cuts. She brushed at them furiously.

She refused to look at him as she gathered up her purse and jacket. "I'm sorry," she said, pushing out the door, nearly knocking Cam's coffee out of her hand.

"What was that all about?" Cam asked. "Was she crying?"

Booth flopped back on his pillows. The pain from the explosion was nothing compared to this. "Nothing," he glowered as Cam sipped her coffee.

If Brennan didn't want to pursue this, then he wasn't going to force her. All he knew was that he felt empty when she wasn't there. He knew that she felt something too. She couldn't hide it forever.


	4. A Clue At The Crime Scene

_**Wow, this chapter took forever to get up! Freshman year of high school and a whole bunch of honors classes is taking its toll on me. **_

_**It seems that a lot of you like this story, but I've only got one comment! Please comment and let me know what you think so I know whether to continue or not. **_

_**Season 6 premiere was on September 23, and I already hate Booth's new GF. **_

_**Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and I'm working on getting some more up. **_

_**Xoxo,  
Janelle**_

* * *

Brennan slipped into one of the Jeffersonian's blue lab coats, carefully avoiding her sprained wrist. She buttoned up the lab coat and tied her hair back, ready to get to work.

Angela had made her stop at her apartment, to clean up a little and to stop crying. She didn't want to burst into the Jeffersonian with a puffy red face. She was glad that Angela didn't ask too many questions about what happened at the hospital. She didn't think she could tell her just yet.

She had a pounding headache and she pained all over, but she needed to find out what happened. For Booth. For herself.

She tried to push all thoughts of Booth out of her mind as she went to go find Hodgins or Zack. Her heels clicked menacingly on the floor as she walked.

"Oh, hey Dr. B!" Hodgins called out, clearly surprised to see her. Zack was following behind him and he gave a puzzled look at her injuries.

"Shouldn't you still be at the hospital?" Zack Addy, her intern, asked.

"I felt it no longer necessary for me to stay," she snapped, sick of people questioning her decision.

She turned back to Hodgins. "So what have you guys got so far?" she asked him.

Hodgins shot a look at Zack, and then said to Brennan, "We went to the bar and collected samples of what was left. We haven't really found anything useful yet."

"There are some bones at the original crime scene if you want to go see them," Zack said, trying to be helpful. "I think they are just the bartenders and whoever was closest to the blast. I was going to identify them, but you can do it if you'd like." Zack knew that looking at someone's remains helped calm Dr. Brennan down sometimes.

"Zack," Angela appeared out of nowhere, scolding him. "Brennan needs to _rest_. She just got blown up. She doesn't need to go back to the place where she almost died."

"Actually, that sounds like a wonderful idea, Zack. I'll feel useless if I don't do it, Angela. I'm just going to call Cam and let her know." She gave the group a tight smile and walked back to her office.

She could hear the three of them whispering about her, but she ignored them. She needed to see those bones.

She picked up the phone that was in her office and dialed Cam's cell phone number by heart. It rang three times before she answered.

"Cam Saroyan," Cam's voice sounded on the other line.

"Cam, it's me."

"Oh, hey Dr. Brennan what can I do for you?" she said. Brennan could hear monitors in the background and knew that Cam was still at the hospital with Booth.

"Zack just informed me that there are bodies at the bar that exploded. I was calling to let you know that I am going to go and look at them. I'll bring them back to the Jeffersonian so we can identify them. But if the skin melted off, it's more my territory then yours," Brennan told Cam. She was irritated that she had to report everything she did to Cam.

"Dr. Brennan, are you sure that's such a good idea? You almost died there, and I don't think Booth will like it if you go without him there…" Cam tried to explain her reasoning, but she could tell she had said the wrong thing.

"I am fine! Why can't you people get that through your heads? And I don't need Booth to do my job!" Brennan fumed.

Cam sighed. "You can go Dr. Brennan, just bring Zack with you."

"Thank you," Brennan said shortly and snapped the phone down.

Brennan slipped off her lab coat, throwing it on top of the couch in her office. She let down her hair and took a deep breath. She went to go find Dr. Addy.

She would never admit it, but it didn't feel right going to a crime scene without Booth.

* * *

"You let her go to a crime scene alone?" Booth exploded on Cam.

Cam had just finished explaining everything to Booth. Booth had been sleeping when Brennan had called, but she told him once he had woken up.

"I didn't let her go alone," Cam said. "I told her to take Zack with her."

"Yeah, that's pretty much like telling her to go alone," Booth said, in between bites of crappy hospital food. "Zack can't protect her. He can barely hold down a normal conversation."

"But Zack is a fantastic anthropologist. Plus I'm the boss and you're not. Now shut up and eat," Cam snapped, sitting down.

Booth glared at her as she sat down in a seat by the window. He went back to his food, but he could feel her eyes on him.

"What?" he asked, after a few moments of silence.

"You want to tell me what happened between you and Brennan?" Cam asked quietly.

Booth sat back, no longer hungry. "Not really Cam. It's none of your business."

"I'm your friend. Of course it's my business," she told him. "Come to think of it, I don't need my FBI agent and my forensic anthropologist fighting on the job," she added as an afterthought.

He leaned back into his pillows, keeping his mouth shut. He didn't need to mix his personal life with his job. And the rejection still stung; he didn't feel the need to relay that to Cam.

"Fine, don't tell me," she said, standing up.

Booth could tell she was hurt; they really were close friends, but he just couldn't tell her about this. At least not yet.

He opened his mouth to apologize when she cut in.

"I'll see when they can get you released so you can go work with Brennan," Cam said, making her way out the door.

He gave her a charming smile. "Thanks Cam."

"Hmpf," she snorted, but Booth could tell he was forgiven.

Booth shifted around on the bed to see where the most damage to his body was. He would definitely need his leg wrapped up and he probably had a broken rib.

But he had had worse; he'd been shot at and blown up before. He would live.

But he needed to go to that crime scene, even if it killed him.

* * *

Brennan ducked under the yellow and black police tape that surrounded the remains of the bar.

The area smelled strongly of charred skin and burned alcohol. FBI agents roamed around everywhere, gathering information.

She stepped carefully, making her way to the middle of the room. She heard Zack stumbling along behind her.

She stopped and looked around. She tuned everything else out and tried to remember this place as it had been hours ago; lots of people talking and laughing, music blaring, dim lighting, and drinks being poured, everyone enjoying themselves.

She looked down at the floor. She saw the remains of the dance floor beneath her feet. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel Booth's hands on her, his face coming closer to press his lips to hers…

"Dr. Brennan?"

Her eyes shot open at the sound of Zack's voice above the racket of sirens. She looked over at him.

"The bodies are over here," he told her, kneeling by something.

She picked up her bag, filled with everything she needed and made her way to where Zack was standing.

She kneeled down beside the blackened bones. The skin had been melted clean off. She saw bits and pieces of burnt alcohol bottles littering the ground.

"This one's male, approximately late 20's early 30's," she called out to Zack. Her mind flashed back, and she saw a bartender handing her a beer. She jerked back to the present and knew for certain that this was the same man, even without a facial reconstruction.

"This one's also male, same approximate age, though I'm leaning more towards late 20's," Zack replied.

Brennan straightened up signaled to one of the FBI agents nearby. "Get these shipped to the Jeffersonian, please."

The FBI agent nodded and went to get someone to transport the remains.

Zack moved over to another set of remains. "One's male, one's female. Both between 19 and 25 years of age,"

Brennan nodded sadly, thinking that she could have seen all these people, moments before they met their demise. And it could have been all her fault.

Zack got another FBI to take this set of remains to the Jeffersonian. "I believe that was all the bodies, Dr. Brennan. Everyone else who lived got taken to separate hospitals."

"Maybe one of them saw something. Booth and I can question them when he gets out of the hospital…" her voice trailed off, and she made her way behind the bar. Something was nagging at the back of her brain; Booth might call it a gut feeling, but she was way too smart for that. She felt like she and Zack were missing something, something vital to the case.

"This looks like some sort of hidden doorway," she said, looking at what was left of the back wall. "Yes, there was a door here, but it was mostly hidden," she concluded.

She looked back at Zack who had an incredulous look on his face. "What do you think this means Dr. Brennan?"

"I don't know yet…" she said in a hesitant tone, wanting to explore more. If Booth knew she was doing this, he would kill her.

She stepped deeper into the hidden passage. At first, the stench of smoke was too strong, taking her back to when the explosion happened. She could smell something else too, but she couldn't place her finger on it. But she pushed on, knowing there was some clue back here.

There was almost nothing left back here. "Zack, I think this is where the explosion started," Brennan called back to him. He was at the opening to this little room, refusing to come in any farther.

She tripped over something that she couldn't see in the dark and she caught herself, using her bum wrist. She cried out as a sharp pain shot up her arm. She immediately choked, inhaling a bunch of soot.

"Bones are you okay?" she heard a voice call, but it wasn't Zack's.

Instantly, Booth was by her side. He knelt by her side, wincing only a little and he cradled her wrist, which she was sure was broken now. She bit her lip and blinked back tears.

"I'm alright Booth, but I think there's something here," she told him in a shaky voice.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight.

He switched it on, revealing the contents that Brennan had tripped on.

"Zack, how many bodies did you say they found?" Brennan called out, coughing.

"Only four Dr. Brennan, why do you ask?" Zack said back to her, still lingering in the opening of the secret room.

"Because we just found a fifth," Booth said, looking down at the badly burned skull that was grinning up at them.

* * *

_**Please let me know what you think. I want this to be like the show, where there is also an interesting crime scene. I have to brush up on my forensic terminology. I'm not sure I like this chapter though, so comment, it really means a lot . :D **_


	5. Nightmares

"Booth you really shouldn't be out of the hospital," Brennan scolded as she turned the lock at her front door.

"C'mon Bones, I couldn't let you take all the credit for solving this murder," he joked. He was carrying a bag of Chinese food, as somewhat of a peace offering. He was trying to make up for what had happened at the hospital. But it seemed like Brennan had already moved past it.

After they had found the fifth skull, they had found the rest of the body covered in soot. Well, what was left of the body. Some of it was burned beyond recognition.

They sent the body back to the Jeffersonian and Booth took Brennan to the hospital to get her wrist checked out. She wouldn't let him drive, so they took a cab. Her wrist really was broken and she needed a cast.

Booth could tell Brennan ignored the doctor's orders when he said she should take it easy. He was right; as soon as they got out of the hospital, she wanted to go back to the Jeffersonian. He insisted on going with her, saying that he didn't think she was safe until this murderer was caught.

Instead of fighting, she let him come. When they arrived at the Jeffersonian, ready to examine the body, Angela had firmly stepped in front of them, telling them that they better go home and get some rest or else she was dragging them out of there herself.

Brennan tried to fight her, but even Booth knew it was a futile effort.

Booth hadn't wanted to leave Brennan just yet, so he invited himself over to her place, though she didn't seem to mind since he brought Chinese for dinner, her favorite.

And that was how they ended up there, stumbling into her apartment together.

Booth placed the food on the table and started serving himself.

She threw her keys down on the table and inserted herself in front of him.

"Hey!" he said in protest.

"You always take all the rice," she complained.

"Well I bought it," he shot back.

"So much for chivalry," she murmured, taking her plate and going to sit in the living room. He stuck his tongue out at the back of her head and followed her.

She noticed the limp in his walk. "Are you sure your leg is okay?" she asked, slurping up some noodles.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine," he groaned, sinking into the couch. They sat close to each other, so they weren't touching unless they both moved a certain way.

They ate in a comfortable silence for a moment, both of them starving. Brennan couldn't remember the last time she had eaten.

"So, you really think the explosion was a cover up to hide that body we found?" Booth questioned around a bite of pork dumpling.

"I don't believe in using my gut as you do. I just think the facts seem to be pointing in that direction. I really don't think that we are being targeted, so you are free to go back to your place tonight," she told him, setting down her plate on the coffee table.

He followed suit and stretched himself along the length of the couch, putting his legs on her lap. "And why would I do that?" he asked with a smirk.

She laughed and he smiled a genuine smile at the sound. It wasn't so often that people broke down Temperance's barriers, but he did it all the time. He could see the true her behind the cool exterior she showed to everyone else.

She playfully pushed his legs off and he sat up. They looked at each other for a few more minutes, all thoughts of food gone from their minds.

Heat flooded Brennan's cheeks. She had never felt so self conscious in her own home, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

She wordlessly stood up and carried her plate to the sink. She tried washing it without getting her cast wet, but the task seemed impossible.

"Here let me help you," Booth appeared from the living room with a now empty plate. He stood behind her, their bodies touching. He helped her clean the plates and put them in the dishwasher.

He knew that this was killing her, not being able to do things herself. She was very independent, and she would not let something as insignificant as a broken wrist get in her way. But he could help her tonight.

She turned around, and he backed up a little. She looked up into his face, searching it for something, but he wasn't sure what.

She pulled him into a hug. "I'm so glad we both made it out of that explosion tonight, Booth."

Booth could tell this explosion was affecting her way more than she let on, but then again, the same thing was happening to him, so he wasn't one to judge. "You have no idea," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her, ignoring the nagging of his broken rib.

She rested her head on his shoulder, admiring the way she fit in his arms. She inhaled his scent, one that was so familiar, yet so intoxicating at the same time.

They stayed that way for a few moments longer, before the pain in Booth's leg and rib drove them apart.

"Here, come sit down," she said, leading him back in the living room.

She made sure he was settled on the couch, with a pillow and blanket and most importantly the TV remote, which he flipped on immediately.

"If you need anything, I'm right in the other room," Brennan told him, making her way into her bedroom.

Booth tried not to think too hard about where Brennan was going to be sleeping and how it wasn't going to be beside him. "Thanks Bones, I really didn't want to be alone tonight," he said, revealing himself in a vulnerable moment.

"Yeah, me either," she replied back, only just realizing that that was the truth.

She gave a small wave and disappeared behind her bedroom door, mostly blocking out the sounds from the TV.

With some difficulty, she slipped on some thin pajama bottoms and an oversize t-shirt on top.

She slipped under her 100% Egyptian cotton sheets, loving the way they felt on her skin. The bed was soft and her pillow was cool on her cheek. She was so comfortable and ready to go to sleep.

Then why wouldn't her eyes close? Why couldn't her mind stop drifting to the man who was sleeping on her couch?

* * *

Booth was jerked awake from the sound of a scream.

He shot up, instantly getting a sharp pain in his leg as he banged it on the corner of the coffee table.

He had fallen asleep with the TV on and it was casting eerie glows all over the walls. He reached over and quickly shut it off.

He fumbled around a little before locating his gun.

He was positive the screams were coming from Brennan's room, and he was afraid to open the door to see what he might find.

He clicked off the guns safety and flew to the door, kicking it open.

Brennan was sitting up in bed, eyes wide.

"Brennan, what's wrong?" he said, flying to her side.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you. What's with the gun?" she asked, cleverly trying to change the subject.

"I heard you scream," he told her, clicking the safety and placing the gun on the nightstand. "Are you okay?"

She flicked on the neighboring lamp, and it was then that he saw the haunted look in her eye, the sweat that coated her body. She was shaking.

"I had a nightmare," she confessed, her mouth forming a little pout and her voice quavering.

He didn't even think before climbing up on the bed beside her. It creaked a little as he got comfortable, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her. "Want to tell me about it?"

She took a deep breath, brushing her bangs back with a clammy hand. "I closed my eyes and it was like I was transported back to the time before the explosion. Everyone was sitting around, acting like everything was fine, but only I knew what was going to happen. I tried to warn you and the bartender, but no one was listening. Then everything went into slow motion, I was seeing every clear little detail of what happened. I could hear people screaming, and the smell was just…horrible. And for a minute I couldn't find you, and then when I did, you…you…" she couldn't even finish, and she started to cry, hating herself for being so weak in front of him.

"Bones, look at me. Look at me," he demanded. He placed a hand on her wet cheek. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

That only made her cry harder and she looked at him in disbelief.

He pulled her down so that her head was lying on his chest. "Shh, it's alright. I'm right here." He kept repeating that over and over until her sobs quieted to just little hitches.

She didn't pick her head up. She needed to hear his heartbeat, satisfying her that he was alive and that he wasn't going anywhere. She clutched at his hand, needing the contact.

He hummed a random song to her, surprisingly on key, as he traced small circles on her back.

"You're going to be okay, Tempy," Booth murmured sleepily as he reached over and shut off the lamp. "You're going to be okay."

* * *

_**Ta-da! I really love this chapter, and I hope you do too. Thanks for the other comments I got. Keep 'em coming! **_

**_xoxo  
Janelle_**


	6. Long Shot

"Did you guys get any sleep last night?" Angela said when she picked them up the next morning. "You two looked awful. When I sent you home, I figured you would fall asleep."

Angela had known about Booth staying over Brennan's the night before, so she wasn't surprised to see them come out together, but she was stunned by how tired they looked.

"Eh, we're fine. Just get us some seriously strong coffee and maybe we'll be able to make it through the day," Booth said, slamming the car door shut behind him. With Brennan's broken wrist and his bum leg, they would be needing rides for quite awhile.

He glanced back at Brennan, who was being unnaturally quiet in the backseat. She met his eye and gave him a small smile.

They had shared something special last night. She had shown him a vulnerable side of herself that she hadn't shown anyone before. And he had been able to try his best to help her. He wasn't sure where that left them now, but he did know that they had an even deeper connection then what they had before.

Angela sped on, stopping only to get Booth some coffee. Brennan refused saying something about coffee addiction and how it wasn't helpful in keeping her awake at all. But after her millionth yawn, Angela bought her a coffee anyway and she took small sips.

When they arrived at the Jeffersonian, Angela turned to them.

"I totally forgot to tell you. Sweets wants you two in his office, like now," Angela said, smirking.

"I didn't know we had an appointment today, Bones, did you?" Booth said, hoping to make light of this conversation.

"No, I don't believe so…Plus Angela, I have so much to do on this case. I really want to examine the extra body we found. I believe it has a deeper connection to the explosion than we realize-," Brennan began.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but he was very strict in his instructions." She glanced down at her watch. "Better go now, you might be able to make it on time." She winked at them and went to go find Zack.

Brennan sighed.

"Well, let's go then. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to work," Booth said, placing a hand on the small of her back and leading her to Dr. Sweet's office.

* * *

"This better be important Dr. Sweets. I was just about to examine an interesting set of bones before you sprung this appointment at us," Brennan snapped as she burst into the room.

Dr. Lance Sweets was sitting, leaned back in his chair, looking at the two of them with a bemused expression. "In a testy mood already, Dr. Brennan?"

She shot him a look that indeed said she was in a testy mood.

"Well, let's cut to the chase here, huh Sweets? You called us here because…?" Booth drew out the word because, taking a seat beside Dr. Brennan on the plush couch.

Sweets couldn't help but take notice of the way they were sitting. Somewhat closer together, touching sometimes, and Booth's stance clearly meant protectiveness.

"I brought you here today because you both almost got killed in an explosion and are barely even recognizing the severity of that," Sweets said to the both of them.

"We are truly noticing what went on Dr. Sweets, but the way we deal with it is different than most," Brennan pointed out. "We want answers, and the only way to do that is to get back to work."

"Well, I am not quite sure the pair of you are ready to go out on the job just yet," Sweets said, prepared for the fallout of his statement.

"Of course we're ready Sweets. Come on," Booth chuckled. "You heard Bones, we handle things in our own way, and we are handling it, trust me."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Sweets inquired.

"Nothing, nothing," Booth said, shrugging it off.

"You guys aren't taking this seriously. You may not notice it now, but soon, you will possibly get a trace of post traumatic stress that we will need to take care of. It might affect you on the case-,"

"What would you like us to do Dr. Sweets?" Dr. Brennan interjected smoothly.

Sweets took a deep breath, surprised that Dr. Brennan was actually asking him for a change.

"Well, I would like you two to come to sessions together in the morning, before you start on the cases. And you already know that I am here if you need to talk to me at any time during the day," Sweets answered.

"Are you kidding me? _Another_ session? C'mon-,"

"Sounds good, Dr. Sweets. See you bright and early tomorrow morning," Brennan said, cutting Booth off and taking his arm, indicating he should stand up.

He followed Brennan out the door, hating the smug look on Sweets' face.

When they were out of earshot, Brennan whipped around to face him. "Don't you want to keep working on this case?" she snapped.

"Well yeah but-,"

"Then sometimes you have to keep your mouth shut and listen to the psychologist who can reassign us," she growled.

Booth couldn't help but laugh at how the roles were suddenly reversed.

His laugh was cut short as a booming sound echoed off the walls of the Jeffersonian. He immediately jumped on top of Brennan, feeling a bout of déjà vu.

Booth heard the beeps of the Jeffersonian going into lock down and he spied Hodgins and Zack coming, coughing, out of a nearby room.

"Everything's okay!" Hodgins called out above the noise. "Sorry about that people."

"Sorry, Bones, you alright?" Booth asked once he was certain there was no danger.

"Yes, but could you please get your arm off my wrist?"

He immediately stood up and offered a hand to help her up.

Cam flew by them in a flash, going to reprimand Hodgins and Zack for yet another experiment gone wrong.

"Care to see what the boy geniuses were doing?" Booth asked Bones, and they both followed Cam.

"-crazy? Another explosion? Really you two?" Brennan and Booth just caught the end of Cam's speech.

Zack shrank back from Cam's reprimand, but Hodgins was listening with an amused expression that irritated Cam more.

"Ah, Dr. B, just the person I needed to see," Hodgins said when he saw her. "As I was trying to explain to Dr. Saroyan, this explosion was done on purpose and actually had a point."

Brennan raised an eyebrow.

"Let me explain." He cleared his throat. "When you were in the room back at the bar that you found the fifth body in, it looked like it got the worst of the fire."

"I told him about your suspicions that the fire had started in that back room, and we went back to the bar to collect some samples," Zack said, filling in spots for Hodgins.

"When I got in there, the smell was oddly familiar, and I placed it as liquid gas. I took some samples just to be sure. I came back here and I wanted to test to see how hot it had to be to cause the explosion," Hodgins continued.

"Nothing was working," Zack piped up. "So I got to thinking, what if there was another flammable source in the back room?"

"Oh, I see now," Brennan said with a trace of a smile.

"What? See what? I don't see anything," Booth said.

"We tested the most obvious source which was ethanol. And it gave us this explosion," Hodgins finished, practically grinning from ear to ear.

"The back room was a storage room for extra alcohol," Cam said, figuring it out. "That, mixed with the liquid fuel, would only cause a little spark to set off an explosion that size. Do you think that the person who was trying to torch the body knew about the alcohol?" Cam asked out loud.

Hodgins shrugged. "I just figured out what happened, it's your job to catch the murderer."

"Clean this up," Cam scolded before making her way out the door.

Zack and Hodgins got to work, picking up their mess. But Brennan was thinking.

"Ah, Bones, I know that look. What's going on inside that head?" Booth asked.

"If the murderer didn't know about the alcohol and set off, say, a match, all the fuel in the room would instantly explode. He would have been caught in the explosion." She turned to Booth. "Did the FBI search the rest of that room?"

Booth nodded. "Every inch of it. They didn't find anything else."

"Perhaps the murderer threw the match in the door and took off running. He got only the brunt of the explosion and was able to escape, albeit with some injuries," Zack offered, listening to their conversation as he scrubbed some unidentifiable liquid of the table.

"You know Zack, that actually makes a lot of sense," Booth said, surprised he understood a word of what Zack said.

"But that would mean that there needs to be a back door to the storage room," Brennan pointed out. "We need a floor plan of the bar, so we can see what it looked like before it exploded."

"Then I guess we are going to find the manager of the bar," Booth said, walking out the door. "Come on Bones."

"Thanks guys," Brennan called back as she picked up her pace to keep up with Booth.

"How are we going to figure out who the manager is?" Brennan asked Booth.

"Angela could probably figure it out for us, right?" Booth said, moving quickly to Angela's office.

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Brennan said, as she followed him. She wondered how he could move so fast without causing his leg pain. She knew better than to ask.

"Angela, we need you to search something," Booth said, bursting through the open office door.

"Uh, sure thing. And I didn't need you to knock or anything," she said sarcastically to Booth.

"We didn't knock Angela," Brennan told her, wondering if Angela had become hard of hearing.

"Bren, I was being facetious," Angela said, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, right," Brennan said. "That's not really my strong suit."

"Can we get back to the case people? Huh?" Booth said, irritation seeping into his voice.

"Of course, what did you need Booth?" Angela asked, turning to him.

"Can you find the owner of the bar that exploded?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure it will only take two seconds," she said, typing something into her computer. A few seconds later, it beeped.

"The owner is Jerry White. I'm pretty sure you can find him at this address," Angela said, writing down the street name on a piece of paper and handing it to him.

"Thanks Ange. Have you started working on the facial reconstructions yet?" Brennan asked her.

"The bones haven't been cleaned yet, sweetie, so I didn't start. I think Cam wanted to see if there was anything left she could use. I expected them to be cleaned by Zack already, but I guess he's busy…"

"Yeah, busy blowing up this place," Booth said tersely.

"Oh yeah, I heard about that," Angela chuckled. "Somehow it doesn't surprise me."

"Alright, can we go now?" Booth asked, impatient as always.

"Yeah, sorry. Bye Ange," Brennan said, following Booth out to this car.

* * *

It was a quiet ride the whole way there, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they pulled up to a cruddy apartment, Booth double checked the address.

"Well, this is the place," he said. "I don't like the looks of it, so stay behind me," he demanded when they got out of the car. He kept a firm hand at his gun, just in case.

Booth was using one arm to keep her behind him, but she was being difficult.

"Booth," she complained, tugging on his arm. "I thought we just figured out that we weren't being targeted. I don't need-,"

_Swish!_

Something flew by her, close to her ear and Booth immediately reacted, pulling out his gun and shooting in the direction the bullet had come from.

A car flew by them, the source of the shooting. It was dark with tinted windows and there was no way to see who was inside shooting at them.

Brennan didn't know what to do. She didn't like that she was weak, with no gun, but she tried to stay out of Booth's way and out of the line of fire.

Booth stood firm, shooting at them back, trying to shoot out their windows or something to stop them, but they were speeding by, gone before they even really got a good look.

When they were gone, Booth turned to Brennan. "Are you okay Brennan?" he asked, touching her lightly in the arm, searching for bullet holes.

"Booth, I'm fine. Did they get you?" she asked, more concerned for him then with herself.

"No, I'm okay, I think," he said, panting as the adrenaline wore off. "Did you get a license plate number?"

"No," Brennan said, ashamed she didn't think to look.

"Damn it!" Booth said, punching the metal of the car. "We nearly get blown up and now we're getting shot at?" He kicked at the tires, royally pissed off.

Brennan wasn't sure how to help him, but she placed a hand on his back. "Maybe we should go inside in case they come back?" she suggested.

He turned around, holding her hand for a second as he looked around the neighborhood for any movement. Seeing none, he started making his way to the entrance of the house, making sure he kept one arm protectively around Brennan.

"You know Bones; I'm really starting to dislike this guy already."


	7. Identified

Booth pounded in the door so hard, it made Brennan jump.

Booth noticed her flinch, since he was shielding her with his body, lest the shooters come back. Even in the dire circumstances, he couldn't help but notice how close she was to him. He eased up on the pounding, but kept yelling, "Open up! FBI!"

This continued on for a few more minutes until the door slowly creaked open, revealing a man dressed in a ratty egg beater and boxers.

Booth could tell he was probably fighting a hangover and wouldn't be up to talking.

"Are you Mr. White?" Booth asked, flashing his badge.

"That would be me," he answered in a raspy voice. He glanced at the badge and back up at their faces.

"Can we come in?" Brennan asked impatiently. She was getting antsy, switching her weight from foot to foot.

Booth placed a hand on her back to calm her, and it worked.

"Of course," Jerry said, stepping aside.

Booth crossed the threshold first; making sure Brennan was with him the whole time. Once they were both safely inside, he slammed the door shut.

Jerry White led them into the living room and Booth and Brennan took a seat next to each other on a leather couch. Brennan kept bumping her knee with his to reassure herself that she was safe and he didn't seem to mind. Jerry took a seat across from them, in a chair.

"So what can I do for you?" Mr. White asked politely. "Would you like anything to drink or something?"

"Can the nice act," Booth snapped. "You just had people shoot at us!" He was still running on adrenaline.

Brennan didn't need Dr. Sweets to tell that this man was honestly puzzled about them getting shot at. It wasn't him who set up the hit. She would have to tell that to Booth later, but she wasn't sure he would buy it.

"I'm sorry Agent Booth, but I had no idea. I can assure you that I had nothing to do with that shooting. No idea," Jerry leaned back in his chair.

Brennan noticed that he was favoring his right arm, but she couldn't tell from this angle why.

Booth decided to drop the questionings about the shooting until later, and to get what he came here for.

"Have you heard about the explosion that happened at your bar last night?" Booth snapped.

"Yes, I have. Such a tragedy. I really like that place," Jerry said, a dreamy look on his face.

"Do you know anything about it?"

Jerry shook his head shortly. "I wasn't working last night."

"Yeah we know, we were there, too. So that's blowing us up and getting us shot at. Not off to a very good start are you Mr. White?" Booth said, leaning back in the couch, his 'Cocky' belt buckle shining.

"I believe I already told you I have nothing to do with either one of those things happening Agent Booth. So if you have nothing productive to ask me, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He shifted in his seat to put his arm at a better position.

"Actually we did come here for a sufficient reason," Brennan piped up. Booth was surprised she had been quiet for so long. "We need a floor plan of the bar, if you don't mind."

"Well, even if you do mind," Booth said. "Because we'll just get a warrant."

"No problem, it will just take a few minutes for me to find them. Be right back," he said, shooting a glare at Booth, who returned it back.

Once he was out of the room, Booth stood up and paced the room. Brennan watched him curiously.

"He's favoring his right arm, as if he is in pain," Brennan whispered to him, not wanting Jerry White to hear them.

He looked at her and then sat back down, closer to her so they could hear each other. "Are you sure?" he asked, but he knew it was a dumb question. Bones barely said anything unless she was really sure.

She nodded with a tinge of annoyance. "Can we get him tell us why?"

"Well, Bones, we can ask him. But he is a mob king pin and I really doubt he will tell us the truth. It may be nothing," he told her. He realized they were close enough to kiss and instantly regretted thinking it.

He sat back, licking his lips and trying to get his breathing under control. "We don't have a warrant or anything. And we aren't here to question him, just to get the floor plan. So he technically doesn't have to tell us anything, and he knows that."

Brennan was lost in her own thoughts, oblivious to the turmoil Booth was feeling inside. "I still think he has something to do with this." She wouldn't let the matter drop. Now she knew what Booth meant by 'gut feeling.' She didn't particularly like it.

"Bones, we can always bring him in for questioning later, once we get more evidence. But we are going on no leads here. We don't even know who the victim was," Booth said, trying to get her to see reason.

"Alright," she agreed, sighing. "I'll go talk to Angela when we get back to the Jeffersonian."

Booth nodded, thankful that she dropped it.

Jerry came back into the room, handing over a rolled up piece of blueprint. "Took me forever to find them. Never needed them, you know?"

"Appreciate it, sir," Booth said in a sarcastic tone.

"So, do you guys need anything else? Because I really want to go back to sleep," Mr. White said, smiling sheepishly. Booth could tell he could play people and that was why he got away with most of the things he did.

"No, that will be all-," Booth started.

"One question," Brennan said, inserting herself into the conversation.

Booth cringed. He hoped he would have been able to avoid this, but he should have known better.

"Anything for the pretty lady," Jerry said, and Booth instantly went on alert. This guy fooled around with women, and they had yet to pin him with a rape.

Brennan felt Booth go into protector mode beside her, but she pursued on with her question. "What happened to you arm?"

Jerry's smile faltered a little, but he managed to keep it in place. "I have no clue what you are talking about."

Brennan didn't notice the telltale signs that he was getting irritated, but Booth sure did.

He tried to usher Brennan out the door, but she planted her feet firmly. She narrowed her eyes at Jerry. "You seem to be favoring your right arm, near the radius maybe. Do you know where you were last night?"

He remained silent for a moment, looking at the ground and they said softly, "I don't need to tell you anything."

"But-,"

"Get out," he said. "Now."

Booth took Brennan's hand and practically dragged her out the door. He kept hold of her hand as they sprinted to the car; Booth was still worried the shooters would come back.

Once they were safely buckled in the car, he turned to look at her.

"Are you crazy? I told you not to do that!" he scolded.

"Actually, you told me that he was a mob king pin and that we didn't have a right to question him. You never said that I couldn't ask him a question without interrogating him," she pointed out.

He gave her an incredulous look before bursting into laughter.

"What?" she looked at him like he was crazy. "What?"

"I love it when you do that," Booth said, after he stopped laughing.

"Do what?" she asked, a blush creeping up her neck. She hoped he didn't notice.

"You take everything so literal. It's just funny to listen to you sometimes," he tried to explain. But he really wasn't sure why that was so funny to him right now. Maybe it was the fact that they could have been killed- _again_- today. He had no clue.

Brennan sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. The pissed look on her face made him laugh again.

"Can we just go back to the lab?" she snapped.

"Sure thing Bones, sure thing," he said, pushing the car into gear and driving off.

* * *

Angela met Brennan in her office.

Brennan was just unrolling the floor plan for the bar.

"Where's Booth?" Angela asked her, sitting down the couch. "Sweetie?"

"Huh…?" she looked up, as if just noticing Angela was there.

"Booth, where is he?" Angela asked, standing up and walking over to look at what had Brennan so enthralled.

"Oh, he is around here somewhere," Brennan said. Truthfully, he was at his office, trying to figure out who shot at them today, but there was no way she was going to tell Angela that. She would just freak out unnecessarily, and Brennan would have to explain that she was fine and that she didn't get shot. She jus t didn't want to deal with that right now.

"So is Cam done with the bones?" Brennan asked Angela.

"Yup, and Zack is cleaning them now, so no I didn't get a chance to do a facial reconstruction," Angela said, already knowing her next question.

Brennan just nodded. "Ah- ha!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Right there," she said, throwing her finger down on the spot she was looking for.

"What?" Angela said, peering around her shoulder.

"There was a back door to the alcohol storage room. That was how someone dumped the body in there. Hodgins found traces of lighter fluid in the room and on the body, so the most likely scenario is that whoever threw the body in didn't know that there was alcohol back there, which set off the explosion."

Angela shuddered. "Remind me why I do this job?" she asked.

"To catch murderers Ange," Brennan told her simply.

Angela smiled at her. "Of course."

"I'm going to go look at the bones, see if I can find cause of death, if it wasn't the explosion," Brennan said, already slipping on a lab coat.

"I guess I can do the reconstruction now," Angela said.

"Sounds good," Brennan said, rushing out of her office.

She bumped into Booth who steadied her with strong hands. He smirked down at her.

"So, there is no lead on who tried to shoot us this time," Booth said, just as Angela approached from behind.

"You got shot at?" She looked accusingly at Brennan. "Did you just happen to fail to mention that to me?"

Brennan shrugged. "It didn't seem important."

Angela's mouth fell open and Brennan could see she was about to go into a tangent so she went on to explain what she found to Booth.

Angela got tired of waiting around and stormed off in a huff. Brennan knew that she would have to tell Ange about the shooting later.

Booth stared thoughtfully. "So it couldn't have been Jerry White; he knew there were alcohol bottles in the back. He wouldn't have been that stupid to try and cover up a murder in his own bar either."

"I guess you're right," she allowed. "But there is still something off about him."

"I'm so proud of you; you're using your gut, just like I taught you. Even if what your gut is telling you is wrong," Booth teased. "I like it when you tell me I'm right though. That never gets old."

"I said you may be right, and I never said I was wrong," she told him.

He hip bumped her into her office and she bumped him back.

He snatched the blueprints off her desk and then slouched on the couch the way only guys could. Brennan sat on her rolling chair behind her desk and watched him.

"Yeah, you were right. There is a back door," Booth said, confirming her findings.

"Of course, I'm right. Why would I bother telling you if I didn't think I was right?" she asked him, thinking it was pretty stupid of him to say something like that.

"Forget it Bones," he said, forcing himself to sit up. He was still tired from last night, and he felt like he could sleep for a week. His stomach grumbled loudly and he noticed it was already nearing dinner time.

He thought of last night and how he and Brennan had bonded. He wished he could go back there, to see her vulnerable side. He would actually love to be lying down next to her in her bed, but that was beside the point.

He looked up at her, flushing at his thoughts guiltily. She was looking at him and a spark passed between them that he was sure even she could feel.

She stood up, about to curl up next to him on the couch when she heard someone's heels clicking in their direction.

She looked up as Angela came through the door. She must have noticed some tension in the air, but all she did was raise an eyebrow.

Brennan avoided looking her in the eye, but then felt foolish for shying away from her thoughts.

"What is it Angela?" she said, clearing her throat. she could tell that Angela was still hurt about not being told about the shooting.

"I found the identity of the body; I thought you might want to know."

* * *

_**Sorry, this took a little longer then I thought it would have. But it's finally up.  
Hope you enjoyed reading it, and if it's not too much trouble, click on the button below and COMMENT! ;D **_


	8. Pain and Desire

_**Sorry, I've been MIA for a little while. Too much schoolwork. But, I was finally able to get this chapter up. Thanks for reading. **_

* * *

"Her name was Carly Mathews."

The victim's face was blown up on Angela's high tech computer screen. She was smiling with a perfect row of pearly white teeth and blonde curls flowed down her face to reach just past her shoulders. She had wide green eyes and it was hard to believe she was dead.

Brennan risked a glance over at Booth. He was staring at the picture with a sick, sad look on his face. It happened every time and Brennan knew exactly how he was feeling. Only she knew how to hide it.

She cleared her throat. "How did you find her Angela?"

"Well, I ran it through missing persons, but she didn't come up there. It was actually police reports; her parents reported her missing the other day when she didn't show up at their house as planned," Angela answered, a twinge of sadness in her voice.

Booth grunted in agreement.

"Good work Ange," Brennan told her best friend, rubbing her arm gently.

"Yeah well," Angela started, trying to perk up. She took the picture down. "Just make sure you find whoever killed her," she demanded, addressing Booth as well.

"We will," Brennan assured her.

Angela took a moment to sift through her papers. She pulled out the one she was looking for triumphantly. "This is her parents' name and address. I think it would be a good idea to talk to them."

"Thanks Angela," Booth said, speaking for the first time. He looked over at the clock on the wall, wanting to go right away and talk to Carly Matthews parents.

_10:26._

Brennan knew exactly what Booth was thinking. "It's too late now, Booth. We can go first thing in the morning."

Booth knew she was right, but he still wasn't happy about it. He stormed out of the office, clutching the piece of paper in his hand tightly.

Brennan hustled, her lab coat flowing out behind her to catch up to him. She finally caught him, outside her office.

His back was to her, his hand on the wall, as if he was supporting himself. His muscles were tight and he was like a loose cannon, ready to explode at any minute.

Not wanting to freak him out, she slowed down her steps as she got closer. "Booth?" She said his name softly, hesitantly. She wasn't sure how he was going to react, and she didn't want to be rejected. She had no clue how she would handle rejection from Booth, and she truly didn't want to fight.

Booth didn't react to her calling his name, so she stepped closer. Before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face to his upper back.

She felt him sigh as he relaxed into her. He placed his hands over hers at his stomach, twining their fingers together.

He twisted in her arms so that he was facing her and he hugged her tight, really needing her right now. She marveled at how well their bodies fit together.

* * *

Sweets hurried out of his office, closing the door and locking it behind him. He was having a big date with Daisy tonight and he didn't want to be late.

He rounded the corner, fixing his tie as he went.

He froze when he looked up. He saw Dr. Brennan and Booth locked in a tender embrace.

He inched back against the wall, making sure the wall was preventing the two of them from seeing him. He peered around the corner, feeling like a school kid spying on an older girl. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. Brennan and Booth were his favorite study.

Their embrace was lasting a long time.

He wished they would just admit their feelings for each other. They obviously worked well together, whether regarding solving murders or their personal life.

But they insisted they had no feelings for each other, other than a work relationship. Sweets knew there was something else going on though.

What did he know, he was just a psychologist.

He held his breath, as he waited to see what happened next.

* * *

"It's not fair," he murmured, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the wonderful scent. "Not fair."

She stroked her hand up and down the back of his neck, some of his hair tickling her palm. "It's never been fair, Booth," she pointed out honestly. She knew that wasn't exactly what he needed to her, but she was nothing if not painfully honest. "Why is this affecting you now?"

He pulled back a little, but still clutched her to his body. "I'm not sure," he said, searching her eyes, as if he could somehow find the answer there. "I think it has to do with almost getting killed twice in less than three days."

Brennan gave a short chuckle. "You get shot at all the time Booth."

"But I don't normally have to see you almost die," he countered.

He saw the effect his answer had on her face. He saw a look in her blue eyes that made him want to kiss her. But he didn't, not after what had happened at the hospital. He didn't want to push her away, not again.

But he saw something, could feel he body reacting to his, and it took everything in his power and self control not to grab her and do her right there.

He brushed a piece of hair from out of her eyes, and tucked it gently behind her ear.

She leaned in, closing her eyes and braced herself for a kiss.

She felt Booth's lips on her neck, leaving a trail of fire wherever he went. He traveled up her jaw line, feeling her prominent bones. His hand tightened around her back, almost lifting her off the ground.

She emitted a sound, one she didn't recognize, but it was full of pleasure.

Booth forced himself to pull back, just as he was going to kiss her, right on her full lips. They were both panting.

He was a bundle of emotions and he had no clue what he was feeling. He didn't want to drag Brennan into this until he was sure.

Brennan stepped back, blinking, as if coming back to life. Her body was still on fire, but she had just realized where they were… and that anyone could have seen them.

Booth could see her pulling back already. He wanted to grab her and kiss her again, for real this time, but the moment had passed.

"Um… I have to go… check and see if Cam found anything on the flesh," Brennan said, stepping backwards.

Booth could see she was flustered. He loved that he had that effect on her. She kept stepping back and since she was focusing on Booth, she stumbled over her own heels. She let out a little yelp as she stumbled back.

No sooner had she fallen, then Booth's arms were around her, keeping her from hitting the floor.

"Thanks," she whispered, noticing how close her lips were to his.

"Cam already left, so you can talk to her tomorrow. Why don't we head home?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She straightened up and disentangled herself from him. She slipped out of her lab coat and walked into her office, hanging it on the hook. She fixed some things on her desk, making sure everything was in order.

She heard Booth appear in the doorway. She looked up to see him leaning casually against the door opening, looking at her.

"You ready?" he asked her, holding out his arm to escort her out.

"Yes," she said, slipping on her other coat. The air was brisk in the middle of October. She took deep yoga fire breaths, trying to calm down her racing pulse. She wanted to efface what happened with Booth. She wanted their friendship to go back to normal. But at the same time...she didn't.

"Are you coming back to my house?" she dared to ask, taking his arm.

"I told you I wasn't letting you out of my sight until this case is solved, and I meant it," he said, holding the door open for her.

"Alright, I was just checking," she said, walking through the Jeffersonian's front door. "And by the way, Booth, I can take care of myself." She walked off to the car.

Booth watched her walk away, appreciating the way her hips swayed when she walked. He had an illicit fantasy of her legs wrapped around him.

He let the door swing shut behind him, and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering how he was going to keep control of himself tonight. He still wanted the feel of her lips on his.

He began reciting the names of saints.

"Booth, hurry up! It's freezing out here!" Brennan exclaimed, standing by the locked car, shivering.

"I'm coming Bones, geesh."He hustled to the car, able to see his breath in the cold. He unlocked the door and climbed in the driver's side as Brennan climbed in the passenger side.

"Man, I'm starving," Booth said as he pulled away from the curb. "Mind if I stop and get something to eat?"

"Maybe you can get some Chinese," Brennan said.

Booth looked over at her and laughed, and Brennan couldn't help but chuckle, too.

And when he took her hand, she didn't pull away.

* * *

_**Please comment…anyone? :) **_


	9. The Parents

_**Ah, I have finally caught up with all my Bones. I watched seasons 4 and have like 2 episodes left on Season 5. I have watched every single episode on Season 6. (HATE HANNAH!) I know my story is not really going with what actually happened, but maybe I'll right another one that has to do with Seasons 5 and 6. I am already planning some more stories, but I want to update this one. I plan to have a sequel to this one too :) **_

_**

* * *

**_

Booth sat at Brennan's kitchen table, gulping down coffee and staring out the window, watching the sun rise in DC.

The nightmares were more frequent for him last night. He could tell Brennan was having a tough time, too. But he didn't dare go in her room. Not after what happened in the Lab. It was too dangerous, their feelings for each other.

They were both running on high emotions. Booth knew what he was feeling was his true feelings. But he wasn't sure about Brennan's…

Bones. His Bones. She confused him so much. But he loved it. He wasn't sure where he would be without her.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. He brought his cup up to his lips, only to find it empty.

He stood up and walked over to the coffee maker to refill it.

* * *

Brennan crawled out of bed, hesitant to leave the warm cocoon of covers. Each day was getting colder. Thanksgiving and Christmas would be here in no time at all.

She knew they had an important job to do today, but she just wasn't in the mood.

She wondered what was wrong with herself. Could she be sick? When _didn't_ she want to solve murders? It wasn't that she didn't want to solve the murders, it was just that she wasn't getting enough sleep and she needed her utmost focus on the tasks ahead of her. The smallest mistake could let a murderer go free.

The nightmares had been horrible last night and she wondered what she would do about them. She was reluctant to tell Sweets about them; she didn't think he could help at all.

She had expected…_hoped_…that Booth would come in and comfort her like he did the night before. But the other half of her bed remained empty all night, resulting in her restless sleep and her cranky mood.

She grabbed a sweatshirt and through it on, shivering.

She wandered into the living room, but found the blankets already folded up. _Apparently Booth didn't sleep well either, _she thought to herself.

She headed toward the kitchen, where she could hear some clanging. Booth still hadn't gotten the hang of her coffee maker.

She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Booth without him noticing. It seemed right to her, having Booth standing there in her kitchen with low slung plaid flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt.

She took a deep breath, keeping her feelings in check. She was just going to pretend like nothing had ever happened between them. They would work together and that was it.

Ah, Booth. How he left her so conflicted.

* * *

Booth paused in what he was doing as he felt someone's eyes on him.

He turned around and saw Brennan with rumpled bed hair. It was weird seeing her in a sweatshirt when he usually saw her in a lab coat or dress clothes.

"Morning Bones," he called with extra cheerfulness. He was trying to get things back to normal, for her sake. He could tell he was trying too hard, but she didn't pick up on social cues like that anyway. "I would offer you a cup but…" he gestured helplessly to the coffee maker.

"I'll get it," she said, crossing the kitchen soundlessly in her stocking feet. She had her back to him as she fiddled with some buttons.

"You know, you should really put on more clothes. The temperature is plunging out there, and you don't want to get sick. Then you'll never catch your murderers," Brennan tried to offer helpfully as coffee squirted into the cup.

She handed the mug to him. "Thanks Bones. But I'm fine," he said, half limping back to his seat. The cold was making his leg really act up, though he tried his damndest not to show it.

Brennan filled up her mug with ease. She cradled it in her hands gently, warming them. She leaned against the counter, unwilling to sit down.

"So what time do you think we are going to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Matthews?" Brennan asked.

Booth winced as the hot liquid slid down his throat. "I'm not sure yet. As soon as possible. We can stop at the lab after we talk to them to see what the squints have picked up. "

Brennan nodded, ignoring his comment about the squints. She knew he didn't really mean it in a bad way. He sometimes fondly called her that, even though 'Bones' was his nickname for her. She also never failed to remind him that he would be nowhere without her team. Well not nowhere, but close enough.

They lapsed into an awkward silence.

They both looked out the window, watching as the sun rose higher, bathing everything in a golden glow. They were ticking the minutes away until they could finally go and get some work done.

Brennan felt useless just standing there, so she went over to the table and took Booth's mug with her own and dumped them in the sink. She quickly rinsed them and swept them into the dishwasher.

She reminded herself to put the dishwasher on when she got home. With Booth staying here, she was using twice the amount of dishes she normally did.

She turned around to find Booth staring at her. Even though she felt weak at the knees, she kept her composure and she was sure Booth noticed nothing. She had to work extra hard to keep her feelings from Booth, but it was possible.

"About last night," she started at the same time he said, "I wanted to talk to you about…"

She paused. She had learned from Booth that it was the proper thing to do to let someone else speak first. But Booth didn't seem to be finishing his sentence so she hurriedly went on to finish.

"Last night should not have happened," she said brusquely. "Especially since we were in a working environment. I believe we decided that this wouldn't work and that we should stick to a working relationship. I thought you felt the same way. So you agree with my conclusion, right?"

Booth's face crumpled. He bit his tongue, shoving his question that he was going to ask her in the back of his mind. He hated that when Brennan got scared; she hid behind her cold façade and colorful vocabulary.

But he wasn't going to push her today, not when they had things they needed to get done. Still, he couldn't help but say something on the matter.

"This is just like what happened in the hospital," he said, shaking his head. "You know, you're not making this easy at all."

"Me?" she bit her lip, not quite understanding. She opened her mouth but he cut her off.

He was already in a bad mood from not sleeping last night, and this was killing him. "You're right, Bones, as usual. We don't work at all. Nothing should have ever happened between us. Nothing ever will. Never," he spit out.

He saw her eyes widen. He never talked with her in such a tone; he was usually the most patient with her, but he was sick of the mixed feelings.

"Well, I'm glad we agree on something," she said back just as coldly.

They glared at each other, neither of them happy with the decision, but neither was willing to back down.

Booth was the first to crack a smile, instantly lightening the mood. Brennan let the tension roll out of her shoulders, glad they could avoid a real altercation.

Booth glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen stove. "Well, I have just enough time to take a shower before we need to get going."

"Wait, who said you get to take a shower first?" Brennan protested, considering she needed a shower, too.

"Bones, its common courtesy, you let the guest take a shower first," Booth said, moving into the living room to get his overnight bag.

"What kind of rules are those? You just made them up like any other male would. Besides, it's my house," she said, inching her way in her room to get some of her clothes.

They eyed each other, sizing each other up and Booth resisted the urge to start laughing. He could just as easily take a shower after Bones, but this was just way too much fun.

He looked directly behind her, which distracted her and made her look behind her as if there was something there.

Booth saw his chance. He dashed to the bathroom, bag in hand, and clicked the lock satisfyingly behind him.

"Booth!" Brennan screamed from the other side, pounding her hands on the door. "That was not right in any way. You will definitely pay for that," she promised.

"What sorry, can't hear you!" he called, turning on the shower.

He heard her growl and stomp away.

He gave a low chuckle and snagged a towel out of the bathroom closet.

"And make sure you don't use up all the hot water!" she called.

He stepped in the shower.

* * *

"Thanks for letting us in," Booth said to the middle aged woman who answered the door. She only let them in after he showed her his badge. She vaguely reminded him of Carly Matthews. "You are Mrs. Matthews right?"

"Yes, that's me," she said, leading them into the kitchen. "What's the FBI need at my house?" she asked curiously. Then realization hit. "Have you found anything on Carly?" she squealed.

Booth and Brennan looked at each other.

"Robert, get in here! The FBI found something on Carly!" Mrs. Matthews yelled.

They heard some banging, a loud crash and a curse, and then Robert Matthews made his appearance.

He was an older man, with the start of a beer belly. He was balding on the top of his head, but the hair that was left was a light brown.

Brennan noticed his facial structures strongly resembled Carly's photo. There was no question on who her father was.

"You can call me Rob," Mr. Matthews said politely, shaking each of their hands. "So you guys have news on Carly?"

Mrs. Matthews was wringing her hands, looking so hopeful with tears in her eyes. "Please tell me you've found her." The pain in her voice was palpable; even Brennan noticed.

"Just let them talk Sue," Robert said, not quote snapping, but he made his point clear.

Booth pulled the folded picture that Angela had supplied out of his pocket. Smoothing it out a little, he handed it over to the Matthews. "Is this your daughter?" he asked.

They studied it for a few minutes and they both nodded solemnly.

"Does this mean you've found her?" Sue's face wrinkled with expectancy of his answer. It made her look years older then she probably was.

Booth sighed; it never got easier telling a family their son or daughter had passed away. Not only that, they had been murdered.

"We did find your daughter…"Booth started, and they both gasped.

"But she was dead. Most likely murdered," Brennan supplied.

The gasps turned to frowns and hysterical tears. Rob went over to comfort his wife, while Booth glared at Brennan, who just looked at him blankly, wondering what she said wrong. She had just said the facts. It wasn't right of Booth to lead them on with false hope. They had found their daughter dead, end of story.

Sue was inconsolable, hysterically crying and no amount of soothing words could calm her down. Robert himself was having a hard time digesting the news. But he knew the FBI was here for some other reason than to tell them his daughter had been murdered.

He excused himself for a moment, dragging his wife upstairs. They had no clue what he did, but she went quiet and he came back down a haggard look on his face.

"Are you sure it's her?" he asked quietly, collapsing onto a kitchen chair.

"Positive," Brennan confirmed.

"We are so sorry for your loss," Booth said, patting him on the back consolably. He glared at Brennan until she murmured a small condolence.

"Screw your sorry, what is it you want?" he looked up at them with red rimmed eyes.

Booth didn't get mad or lose his temper. He understood that people handled loss differently. He promised to make this quick.

"I need the details on your daughter. When did you first know her to be missing?" Booth said, taking out a notepad and prepared to write.

"Just the other day. She didn't show up to have dinner with us, and when we called she didn't answer. We went up to check her apartment, but it was empty."

"Could you give me the address of that apartment please," Booth said, and copied down the address as Mr. Matthews spouted it off.

Booth asked the other standard questions. He ended with the famous, "Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you daughter? Any boyfriends, exes, anything like that?"

Rob shook his head vigorously. "No, no way. Not my Carly. She was an angel, just got out of college and was ready to start making a living all by herself. She didn't have a boyfriend that I know of…But there was this one guy she introduced us to at the house. He seemed kind of shady." He gave Booth the name who scribbled it down.

Rob showed them to the door. Brennan lagged behind a little, taking in everything at the house in her photographic memory.

"Thanks for the information Mr. Matthews, and if you remember anything else, just give me a call," Booth said, handing over the card.

"Just find out who did this to my daughter please," Robert said.

"We will do our best, sir," Booth said, knowing not to make any promises.

* * *

"Good morning Dr. Hodgins, have you found anything of importance?" Brennan asked as she stuck her arm in her lab coat, watching out for the cast. Booth had dropped her off and reluctantly went to his office to get some work done. He had only let her out of his sight because she promised not to go anywhere, but to stay there and work at the Lab until he got back.

Hodgins looked up from the microscope he was inspecting carefully. "Nope, not yet. There isn't much to work with. Everything, skin included, got burned off in the fire. It kind of ticked Cam off."

"Does that mean the bones are clean?" she asked, excited that she would actually get to contribute to the case.

"I think so. Zack's already there," Hodgins said, but Brennan was almost out of earshot before he could finish.

Brennan practically flew to one of many examination rooms. There, she saw Zack hovering over the pristine white bones that had once been a glowing young woman. It was too sad to fathom. Brennan went into the place she had in her mind that made her distant from the world. It was the only way she handled doing these cases.

"Alright Zack, what have you got?"

Zack jumped; he had been so focused on the bones that he hadn't heard Dr. Brennan come in.

He instantly went into a full body report. "There is trauma to the head, and a nick to the C5 rib. It looks like some sort of puncture wound. The knee caps are cracked in a lot of places. It seems that she got hit with something heavy enough to make her immobile. It definitely happened pre-mortem, so she wasn't able to run away from her presumed attacker. It is unclear at this point in time which injury caused death."

"Excellent work Zack," Dr. Brennan said, and Zack swelled with pride.

She leaned over the bones herself, confirming Zack's findings.

Brennan fell silent as she examined the bones, staring so intensely that it sometime made her vision go blurry. She just kept going over the bones in her head, trying to find something that they could go on. But the bones were not being very helpful in this case. At least not yet.

Zack had left at some point, presumably to do some work for Cam.

She grunted in frustration, just as Booth came waltzing in the door.

"Everything okay?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"No, it is not okay. I haven't found anything the least bit helpful in the bones to solving this case," Brennan said, shoulders sagging.

"Hey Bones don't worry about it. It's only the early stage. You'll find something, you always do." He gave her a crooked smile.

"Thanks Booth. So what have you got?"

"Well, I think we should go to her apartment, see if there is anything there. If we don't find anything useful, we can check out this Andrew McKenna guy. He was her ex boyfriend. But I don't think it was him."

"That is based on pure speculation," Brennan said, finding it annoying when he didn't use facts to back up his hypothesis.

"No Bones, it is based on years of experience. So you ready to check out this apartment or what?"


	10. Illicit Affair

They pulled up to the quaint little apartment. Booth wondered how anything could have happened to Carly. This neighborhood looked like the one whose neighbors knew everything that was going on. He made a mental note to talk to some of the neighbors for a lead.

He stepped out of the car, Brennan following wordlessly behind him. She was wondering if they were going to get shot at. But it didn't seem plausible; the neighborhood was too…friendly for that kind of violence. But then again, looks could very well be deceiving.

Booth tried the doorknob, finding it unlocked, which could be a very bad sign. He drew his gun. "Bones, stay behind me."

He advanced forward, keeping his gun at eye level, finger itching to shoot. Booth scanned all the rooms, which didn't take long since it was such a small house. Finding it clear, he put his gun away and motioned to Bones that she could do her thing.

"The door was unlocked," he told her, trying to fill the silence and making his way around the house himself, looking for the telltale signs of a break-in gone wrong.

But that wouldn't make sense, since the door was unlocked.

"I gathered," Brennan said, absorbed in her examination. She recalled that there had been a deep nick on the C5 rib and she was categorizing the things in the apartment into possible weapons. She would have to look at the bones once more to get a true feel of the shape of the wound, but there was no harm in looking now.

"I was thinking maybe it was a break-in, but since the door was unlocked, it might have meant that someone had a key," Booth speculated.

"Or she just left her door unlocked," Brennan pointed out. Booth rolled his eyes; she always had to poke holes in his theories.

They searched the house for a few minutes more. "Well, this seems like a waste of time," Booth snapped in frustration. "I think we should just go talk to the neighbors. Maybe they saw something."

"Wait a minute…" Brennan said slowly. She walked up to the small fireplace. On the mantel were a few pictures in silver frames. One was of Carly and who she assumed was Andrew, her ex-boyfriend, because they were kissing. The next was of Carly and her parents. But the last one didn't make sense.

It was Carly and her mom, but it wasn't her husband standing next to her. It was a boy, about Carly's age in the picture. Robert and Sue Matthews hadn't mentioned any other kids.

"Booth, look at this."

Booth didn't think there was anything significant about a family photo, but upon closer inspection, he saw that there was a guy in the picture that they didn't recognize.

"The bone structure between the three of them is oddly similar," Brennan told him.

"What are you getting at, Bones?" he asked her, removing the photo from the mantel. It was slightly dusty on the glass.

"I'm getting at," Brennan said, copying Booth's wording which was so unlike her own, "Mrs. Matthews may have been having an affair quite some time ago."

"A step brother," Booth said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see the resemblance."

"The problem is that now we have plenty more people with motive for murder," Brennan pointed out.

"And the finger points at Robert Matthews," Booth finished, looking at her. "Good call, Bones."

She smirked. "Those are the fact's Booth."

He chuckled. "Now let's talk to some of the neighbors and see if they know anything."

* * *

Booth knocked on the burgundy colored door. It was the third house they had been to and none of the other ones had anything other than the basic information that they already knew. He didn't expect this house to be any different.

The door creaked open and an older woman appeared. She had glasses slipping down her nose and she walked with a cane.

"Well, hello there. What can I do for you?" she asked sweetly, squinting up at them.

"Hello, ma'am, FBI," Booth said as a standard greeting. "Do you mind if we come inside and ask you some questions about the woman who lived across the street?" He pointed over to the house.

"About cute little Carly? Sure, you can ask me all the questions you want," the old woman stepped creakily back and allowed them to come in.

The house was small, but cozy. The woman was making her way to the kitchen, back hunched. "Let me get you something to drink, dear."

Booth smiled at the woman's retreating form. Then he turned to Bones, who was behind him. She had her nose scrunched up in disgust.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked her, stepping closer.

"I don't like the smell of old people," she said, breathing in and sneezing. She rubbed at her nose furiously.

Booth barely stopped himself from laughing out loud and he ignored Bones' glare. "You're telling me that you deal with the smell of rotting bodies all day and you can't stand the smell of old people?" he asked her incredulously.

She sniffed, and breathed through her mouth to stop the smell from penetrating her nostrils. "Yes," she answered. "I don't see why that's funny."

Booth kept on laughing to himself, and he patted Bones on the back lightly.

The old woman came back, holding two glasses on a tray. It looked wobbly, so Booth rushed over and relieved the tray from her grasp.

"Thanks, dear." The woman took a seat and gestured for Booth and Brennan to do the same. "So what can I do for you?" she asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. It made her eyes appear wider.

"Well, can I first ask you your name?" Booth asked, taking out a notepad.

"Margret Flouter, but you can call me Marge," she answered, leaning her cane against the chair. She was short and her legs dangled over the edge of the chair, reminding him of Parker when he sat on a park bench.

"So what can you tell me about Carly Matthews?" Booth asked, getting down to business.

"Carly was so sweet; she helped me with a lot of things around the house. Whenever I asked her, she came right over, no matter what. She even brings me dinner plates sometimes. I live by myself so I take all the help I can get," Marge stopped, thinking. "I remember that one time, my cat Snickers got loose and she tracked him down for me. Stopped him from getting hit by a car if I remember correctly."

Booth looked at Brennan. Why did murder always happen to the nice people?

"She sounds very nice," Booth agreed. "Do you know if she lived with anyone there, or was it just her?"

Marge brought a hand to her face thoughtfully. "Well, I think she lived by herself. But a lot of the time, I would see a man come over. Looked about her age, too. I always figured he was her boyfriend, but she never mentioned anything like that to me."

Booth clutched the pen tightly; now they were getting somewhere. "Do you remember what the man looked like, Ms. Flouter?"

"Please, call me Marge. Now let's see…I never really got a good look, but he had long sandy colored hair, you know? I never saw the front of him though."

Brennan tapped Booth on the shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "The boy in the picture on the fireplace had long sandy-colored hair."

Booth nodded imperceptibly. "Anything else you remember, Marge? Anything at all could be helpful," Booth said, trying to dig up some more information.

"Well, one night, I heard a crash. When I went to the window, I saw police cars outside. Carly never did say what that was about…" Marge said distractedly. "Why are you asking all these questions, son?"

Booth cleared his throat and stuck the notepad back in his suit. "Carly Matthews was murdered. We are investigating what happened. Thank you for all your help, Marge."

Marge's mouth was hanging open. "Who could have done this to Carly? Who would want to kill such a sweet girl?"

"That's what we are trying to find out."

* * *

Booth and Brennan were talking avidly as they drove to the lab. Brennan wanted to look at the bones again. She wanted to find clear cause of death.

Booth wanted to go back to the FBI building to call in Mrs. Matthews for questioning. He figured she had an affair and the kid in the picture was her son. He wondered if the dad knew about the affair; it would have taken place a long time ago.

"All we got from that old lady was that Carly was in contact with the alleged step brother. I don't see how that helps us," Brennan said.

"I don't get how all of this ties in to the bar exploding," Booth said, pulling to a stop at a red light, lost in his own thoughts. He ignored Brennan's statement altogether.

Brennan for a change remained silent, not sure what the bar exploding had to do with the case either. She saw a couple of possibilities, but she wouldn't know anything for sure until one of the people on her team found something.

"I think we should go talk to the ex-boyfriend. I bet you he knows something," Brennan said, channeling her inner FBI.

Booth chuckled. "Sure, we can check out the ex, but not until tomorrow. It's getting late and we still need to figure out who the guy in the picture is. I say we call in Sue Matthews."

Brennan pulled out something from her bag. "I'm going to give this picture to Angela and ask her to find out the name of the step-brother, if that's okay."

Booth's eyes darted over to what Brennan held in her hand. "Bones! You can't just take things from people's houses. Especially dead people's houses. I thought we have gone over this before."

"Why not? It's pertinent to the case, and it's not like she's going to miss the picture. She's dead," Brennan pointed out blatantly.

Booth sighed, not bothering to explain, as they pulled up to the FBI building.

"Hey, I thought you were bringing me to the Jeffersonian," Brennan protested as Booth opened up her door for her.

"I need you and Sweets here to interrogate Carly's mother. Besides, your squints will call you if they find anything important, right?" Booth made his way up the path into the building, keeping a hand lightly on Brennan's back.

"I suppose," she answered back grudgingly. "I thought you said it was getting late."

"I meant that talking to Sue Matthews is more important than talking to the ex-boyfriend right now. Don't worry, we will talk to him too, I just want to talk to Sue first." Booth said, noticing the look Bones gave him.

They hurried off to go find Sweets and call in Sue Matthews. Hopefully, she would provide a lead in this case.

* * *

Sue sat in the interrogation room, blowing her nose loudly into a tissue. Brennan, Sweets, and Booth were gathered in a separate room, watching her through the one way mirror. They were quickly discussing the details they had found before Booth went in to question her.

"I'm just going to get out of her that she had an affair and a son. I want to find out who the affair was with, how long ago, and if her husband knew about it," Booth told Sweets, who was studying Sue thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure how much you can get out of her. She is obviously still distraught about her daughter's murder. I don't think that she had anything to do with the murder," Sweets said, turning back to Booth.

"Thank you Detective Sweets," Booth said sarcastically. With a last look at the two of them, Booth stepped outside the room and into the room that held Sue. Booth stuck in the little headphone in his ear so he could hear what Brennan and Sweets were saying.

"Hello, Agent Booth," Sue said, crumpling another tissue in her hand. "Did you find any more news on Carly?"

"Actually, Mrs. Matthews, I want to ask you some questions," Booth said, setting a folder down on the table and sitting down across from her.

Sue looked confused for a second, but then her red rimmed eyes narrowed. "You can't think I would have had anything to do with this?" she asked, appalled.

"Maybe not directly," Booth said, causing Sue to look up at him in surprise.

"What do you mean?" she asked shakily.

Booth reached into the file he had and pulled out a copy of the picture that Brennan had taken from Carly's house.

"Can you please tell me who is in this picture?" Booth asked, sliding the picture in front of her.

Sue picked up the picture and inspected it, trying to keep the surprise off her face, but Sweets picked up on it.

"She recognizes who it is," Sweets supplied helpfully to Booth through the microphone. Booth nodded slightly to indicate that he agreed with Sweets.

Sue put the picture back down on the table, fresh new tears springing to her eyes. "Where did you get that?" she asked in a low voice.

"Don't push too hard, Booth, or she will shut down," Sweets told him.

"I don't think that's important, Sue. What's important is that you tell me who is in that picture," Booth said, gently.

Sue rubbed at her eyes and remained silent for a minute. She took back the picture. "That's Mark, my son."

_Bingo. _

"I'm assuming that this isn't your son with your husband, Robert is it?" Booth asked. "Because if it were, then he would be in the picture."

"Yes, I had an affair. But it was a long time ago. Why does this even matter?" Sue asked.

Brennan's phone rang, echoing in Booth's ear. He stood up and glared up in the direction of the two of them. Brennan fumbled around until she got her phone.

"Dr. Brennan speaking."

"Hey, Dr. B, it's Hodgins. You should get back to the lab ASAP." Brennan could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Thank you Hodgins, I'll be there soon." She snapped her phone shut and tuned back into the conversation.

"Your husband didn't know about the affair, Mrs. Matthews, correct?" Booth said.

She gave a slight nod. "No, I never told him."

"Your daughter obviously knew about the affair," Booth said, gesturing towards the picture. "I think you know what I'm thinking," Booth said, placing his palms on the desk.

Sue's mouth flung open in surprise. "Oh my God, _no. _Robbie would never do anything to hurt our daughter. No matter what happened. He loved her so much. I can't believe you would say something like that," Sue said, face contorted with anger.

"One more question. Mrs. Matthews, who was the person you were having an affair with?"

Sue shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Is this really going to help the case?"

Booth raised his eyebrows in answer.

Sue sighed, placing her hand to her forehead. "Jerry White."


End file.
